CHAPTER II. 
Departure from London — The Travelling Party — Captain Rotliwell— 
Sea-Sickness — Experiments with Sea-weed — Crossing the Line — - 
The New World. 
31. In spite of the eagerness and hasp* with which our preparations 
were carried out, it was nevertheless the 19th December before we could 
leave London. The expedition, consisting of my brother as commander, 
Marine-Lieutenant Glascott as assistant, Mr. Hancock as secretary, Mr. 
Walton as artist, and myself as volunteer, travelled by passenger-steamer 
to Gravesend to catch the good barque “Cleopatra” that was to convey 
us to the goal of our wishes : she had already been tugged there by 
steamer from the West India Docks where she had been freighted. 
32. Unfortunately, the 18th December upon which we might have 
sailed, .proved to be a Friday, when the order of a captain to up with 
anchor and leave the Docks could only be expected to be obeyed under 
circumstances of necessity, for every sailor cherishes the firm belief that 
a sea-voyage commenced on a Friday, can only terminate in misfortune 
and loss. 
33. It was dark when we reached Gravesend and got a boat to trans- 
fer ns to the Cleopatra, already lying at anchor, where we found 
everything in an upset. Honest Captain Rotliwell, known to and 
esteemed by all travellers to the West Indies, introduced us to his wife 
who for several reasons would have considered it one of the greatest of 
conjugal crimes not to accompany her husband on all his voyages: she 
shook hands with us cordially, and bade us welcome. Roth husband and 
wife were Scotch. Captain Rotliwell had gained his first laurels fighting 
with the celebrated veteran regiment, the “Scotch Grevs,” at the battle of 
Waterloo, which continually formed the most brilliant topic of his 
interesting conversations. Of course, like all his compatriots, he gave 
the credit of the victory solely and alone to Britain. Rotliwell was 
one of those straightforward and blunt natures often to be found among 
sea-farers, was fond of his glass of stiff grog, and at table, preferably 
over a glass of wine, he would tell us about his adventures by land and 
sea, never reflecting that his interested' hearers were emptying a glass 
more than they otherwise would have done. Every happy face was 
cheery sunshine for his humour, every sad one a gloomy cloud in a 
radiant sky: he enjoyed everything beautiful in whatever form to be met, 
or wherever to lie found. Mrs. Rotliwell learning this thoroughly 
throughout her happy married life, must have concluded from experience 
that it were better for kitchen and cellar — because the captain had to see 
to the victualling of the passengers — as well as for her lord and master 
if, during the voyage, she were to take both the former and latter under 
her special management and exclusive care. I still remember with a 
smile the lively quarrels that usually broke out of an evening in the 
captain’s cabin after having got Rotliwell to talk at table about Waterloo 
.when, recognizing wliat brave lads we were, he would call for one flask 
of rum or wine after the other, with a view to save himself spinning his 
yarn dry, and our having to wind it up thirsty. The lively remonstrances 
of his spouse against such waste and the loss it entailed in her cash, were 
generally answered by a loud snoring proceeding from his bunk, 
